Tag: drought
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Drought Town
This is the summer of red dust. Everything sucked dry—hollow as cicada husks, wedged under eaves and porch stairs—waiting for a wind change. On the road out of town, empty grain silos loom, perched like headstones over wheat-field graves. Harvesters sag, tyres cracked like the asphalt. Rotting carcasses litter riverless beds—tongues swollen, flyblown, unslaked. First,…
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Dragonflies & Raindrops
It starts with a single languid drop, beating a hardpan drum. Cicadas warble a scorched-earth vibrato, rushing skyward, the long-dry undone. Rusty tears trickle their bullnose percussion on verandah iron and brass. While the red dusts of torment yawn and drink deeply, thirsty as fire-kissed grass. My hard-bitten mongrels, in Waratah shade, flick ears laid…
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Drought Break
The first splash, a drum crash on hardpan. Tin roof hiss, a slow kiss that grows into rushing percussion. New voices rise, warbles and sighs, from beneath the shelter of tree ferns– a chorus begins, magpie trills and woodwind, as sound to the outback returns. Ryan Stone Another bite at dVerse quadrille #33 – Sound…
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Back Road
In this threadbare landscapewhere patchwork fieldsstretch to the horizon,a red barn slouches—weathered and wornthrough all the long days,paint flaking under the sun. Surrounded by wheat husks,each stalk croaking secrets,forgotten, a scarecrow slumps—guardian of a dead land.Tattered garments hang limp, buttoneyes gaze sightless. Last sentinelagainst encroaching shadows. And still, there is beauty here.Where barn, field, and…
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Tiger Snake
I found him dozing in the dustof the dry top-paddock dam.Coiled olive and yellow stripes,lazy in the afternoon sun.I saw the blunt wedgeof his head stir to rise,body flatteninglike yesterday’s hay.I stomped. Stomped again,crushed head into hardpan,and heard the moanof life departing. Or just windthrough the empty grain silo. Ryan Stone
